Earthly Crown (61 page)

T
HE COMMOTION BROKE DIANA
out of an unpleasantly gratifying dream, unpleasant because, snapping awake, she reached for Anatoly to continue, only to remember that he wasn’t there and that she had ho idea whatsoever when he would return. It seemed to her that the longer he was gone, the more she missed him. Her hand brushed the soft leather pouch in which she stored the finery he had sent to her. Nestled in among the pillows, it was a poor substitute for him, but it had touched his hands more recently than she had, and for that reason she kept it by her.

Outside, a woman spoke in a commanding voice. “Where is your mother?” Then, Diana realized that she knew that voice, and that Arina Veselov was asking for “Mother” Yomi—whom the jaran had mistaken for the headwoman of the actors’ tribe, just as they thought of Owen as dyan.

“Hyacinth, what in hell happened to you?” asked Quinn, outside. She received silence as her reply, except for the muffled sound of crying.

Diana dragged a tunic on over her loose striped trousers and pulled on her soft leather boots. She twisted her hair back and, with a deft flip of her hand and a silver brooch, pinned her hair up at her neck. Then she ventured outside.

To be greeted by a shocking sight: her dear friend Arina Veselov, looking like no friend now, escorting a party of red-shirted fighters who guarded a disheveled Hyacinth. A bruise was forming on Hyacinth’s right cheek. Tears stained his face, and his clothes were grimy, as if he had been dragged through the dirt. Quinn stood staring, with Oriana at her back; a moment later Hal came crawling out of his tent, bleary-eyed, to gape at the scene. Gwyn ran up.

“Arina,” Diana began tentatively, but Arina merely glanced her way and shook her head fractionally, as if to say: I can’t speak to you now.

So they waited. Hyacinth was still crying, but soundlessly now. He wiped his face with his sleeve. The men surrounding him did not look at him, looked anywhere but at him, but they remained aware of his presence nevertheless and alert to any move he might make to escape. The other actors arrived in ones and twos, curious, worried. Finally Owen and Ginny arrived, looking sleepy and puzzled, with Yomi and Joseph trailing behind. It was just light enough to see. Behind, in the main camp, activity already bustled at this early hour, and a fair crowd of jaran had gathered at a little distance to watch.

“Mother Yomi,” said Arina formally, inclining her head with the respect of one peer to another. “It is my bitter task to bring this man back to you. He is no longer welcome in our camp, and perhaps will no longer be welcome in yours.” She bowed her head briefly over her folded hands. “Although none of us will venture to interfere in how you judge this case among yourselves.”

Owen and Ginny simply watched. Yomi glanced at Owen and then replied. “I beg your pardon, Mother Veselov, but please let us know what offense the boy has committed. He’s scarcely more than a child.”

Anahita tittered. Quinn slapped her on the arm, looking outraged.

“How dare you!” shrieked Anahita, tossing her black curls back away from her face.

“Anahita,” said Gwyn in a low voice. “Shut up, or leave.”

Anahita went red in the face. With a snort of anger, she walked away. But no one laughed at her discomposure. Hyacinth fell silent.

Arina Veselov looked grave. She looked so impossibly tiny, standing there with the weight of her authority on her, and yet she carried an air of implacability with her. Her chin quivered, and she set her mouth in a thin line, then spoke. “In the days before day existed, Mother Sun and Father Wind talked together, Aunt Cloud and Uncle Moon talked together, and from this congress came children. So did they, the gods, decree that when a girl becomes a woman, when a boy becomes a man, so will they talk together, that from such congress will come children. And so did the tents of the jaran grow from one tent to many tents, and the tribes of the jaran from ten tribes to a hundred hundred tribes. But this one—” She opened a hand, palm out, to indicate Hyacinth, “—has turned his face away from the gods’ decree. Thus must we, in our turn, turn our face away from him.”

Quinn had sidled up next to Diana, and Diana felt that Gwyn had moved up behind her, like a shield at her back. Hal glowered at the jaran. Yomi looked perplexed, and for once, Owen appeared to be perfectly alert, absorbing every word.

“I don’t understand,” whispered Quinn. “What does that mean? What did he do?”

“I thought,” said Gwyn in an undertone, “that Hyacinth was being discreet.”

Yomi sighed and stepped forward to extend a hand toward Hyacinth, but he ignored her. “Mother Veselov, I’m still not sure I understand what you are trying to say.”

Arina set her lips even tighter, as if the entire conversation were distasteful to her. She glanced back once at Hyacinth and then at one of the men standing guard—her brother Anton, Diana realized. “I beg your pardon for bringing such news to you, Mother Yomi. He was found consorting with another man.”

“And?” Yomi asked, waiting for the explanation of the crime that had evidently followed this discovery.

Arina stared blankly at her. Yomi stared blankly back.

Diana took one step forward. “Yomi,” she said softly in Anglais, “I think she’s trying to tell you that same-sex partnerships aren’t—ah—tolerated here, and certainly not when they become public.”

Owen swore loudly. Yomi hastened forward and took Hyacinth firmly by one elbow, dragging him away from his jaran escort. “Mother Veselov,” she said briskly, “I thank you for bringing this boy back here. Now we will speak with him.”

It was a dismissal. Arina recognized it. She nodded, apologized again for the unseemly episode, and retreated, ruthlessly dispersing the distant crowd as she went.

“You damned fool,” said Owen.

“Oh, hell,” murmured Gwyn. “He’s going to lose his temper and antagonize Hyacinth at the same time.”

“Have you no self-control?” Owen demanded. “I
thought
I admitted only professionals to my troupe, but now I see that I’ve made an exception. Clearly you can’t think any farther than your genitals extend.”

Hyacinth burst into tears. He gulped out words that no one could make sense of, strangled in sobs.

“Owen,” said Ginny quietly, going over to put an arm around Hyacinth. “Perhaps we’d have better luck in a softer and more private discussion of what happened.”

But Owen was in a white rage by now. “I wash my hands of him!” He stalked off.

“Yes, let’s discuss this in private,” said Yomi. “Ginny? Joseph?” She glanced up. “Gwyn and Diana, you, too. Come.” Hyacinth trailed passively after her. They went to the Company tent.

“Sit,” said Ginny sternly, pressing Hyacinth down into a chair. “Now, what in hell happened, my boy?”

Hyacinth looked awful. His bright hair was mussed and tangled. Dirt streaked his chin. His left sleeve had a rip in it. He stared at his hands, which lay motionless in his lap. There was a long silence. At last Hyacinth spoke, his voice so low that Diana had to strain to hear him. “I met this man. I liked him.”

“But, Hyacinth,” said Diana, “by the way you talk, I thought you knew all about—I mean—” She faltered.

“I think what Diana is trying to say,” said Yomi, “is how, if you’re so experienced at this, did you get yourself into this mess?”

“Oh, Goddess,” said Ginny under her breath, “what will Soerensen say when he hears of this? He was so insistent that we not break any taboos.”

“Go on, Hyacinth,” said Joseph gently. “You may as well tell us the truth now, since I think you’ve done as much damage as you can by—”

“By lying?” Hyacinth flung his head back. “Well, it’s true, that I exaggerated. It’s true I joked about sleeping my way through the camp, and sleeping with everyone, and, no, I never did. Oh, men looked at me in
that
way, a few of them, but they never did anything about it, except once, and then he was ashamed, and it was all so secret and quick and shameful that it was ugly instead of joyful, and it made me feel dirty since he clearly felt that way. Women propositioned me, lots of women, and they were fine and pleasant, those I went to. But you know I prefer men.”

“But then if you knew they thought it shameful, if you knew it was wrong as a cultural norm, then why did you go ahead this time?” Ginny asked, shaking her head. “Why? We’re in
their
culture, Hyacinth. We can’t just tromp around in our seven-league boots and trample wherever we go.”

“If it was
wrong?
You know it’s wrong, how
they
act. Punishing someone for what’s only natural.” He was no longer sobbing, but tears leaked from his eyes again. “Do you know what they’re going to do to him? They’re going to exile him. Ostracize him. You know what that means, don’t you? He’ll die.”

Diana stared. The truth was, she had never thought Hyacinth capable of thinking much about anything. He was a decent actor, with a chance to grow in time if he worked at it, but the rest of the time he was such a damned flighty, shallow, pretty boy that it was hard to take him seriously or even to believe that he could feel this deeply and understand this much.

Gwyn sighed. Yomi covered her eyes with a hand. Joseph shook his head.

“Then why did you do it?” demanded Ginny.

“I didn’t know,” he said, anguished, and Diana believed him. “I know they’re savages, and I knew enough to know that the kind of primitive war they wage would be ugly—but you can learn to look the other way.”

“Oh, Goddess, maybe
you
can,” whispered Diana.

“But I thought because they’re pretty open about their sexuality that they wouldn’t be so harsh. I knew I had to be discreet. And it was my fault. He said I ought to leave, and I said—well, and then we fell asleep. And then it was morning.” He began to weep in earnest again. “It isn’t fair. His life has been hard enough. He and his sister were orphaned and sent to live with their aunt, but she didn’t treat them well, and then he became an outlaw—I don’t understand that part—and now they let him ride with the army again, but I think they’ll be happy enough to see him go. It’s a good excuse to get rid of him. He’s worried about his sister.”

“Hyacinth,” asked Yomi slowly, “how long has this been going on?”

He shrugged. “A month? Right after that skirmish up in the hills we were caught in. Longer than that, I guess. A while.”

Yomi turned to Diana. “Do you know anything about this?”

“No. It’s not a subject I ever—discussed—with my husband. Or with anyone else, for that matter. Just with Hyacinth. But I thought he knew what he was doing!”

“You don’t understand.” Hyacinth stood up. “It’s my fault. If we don’t do something, he’ll die.”

“What do you suggest we do?” asked Ginny quietly. “We’re traveling with them, Hyacinth, not the other way around. I remind you that we work under the duke’s interdiction.”

“Tits!” swore Hyacinth. “You know damn well we’re breaking that interdiction anyway. All the plays. Theater. Everything. It’s so much piss, if you ask me. We’re influencing them just by being here—and his own sister is married to the king! I think it’s for the better, too. They need to be civilized. Do you really approve of the way they kill? Slaughter wholesale? And now they’re going to kill Yevgeni just because he loves men rather than women, as if that means anything.”

“They’re not going to
kill
him!” Yomi exclaimed.

“Do you think he has a chance, sent out into hostile countryside alone?” Hyacinth sounded disgusted.

“You’re dependent on the tribe, here,” said Diana softly. “Everywhere, here, whether you’re in hostile country or out on the plains.”

“Yevgeni said there used to be a tribe that was just men, just fighters, who had left their tribes because they—because they wanted that freedom. He was with a group of them when they came into the army, but he says that the last real group of them died.” His beautiful, mobile mouth twisted down into a bitter grimace. “They died saving Bakhtiian’s life. I told him that he should demand to see Bakhtiian. If men like that would save Bakhtiian, surely Bakhtiian owes them a favor, to save Yevgeni.”

“Hyacinth.” Gwyn shook his head. “But custom has to be strict in a place like this, in a society like this. Isn’t it true that they have to be rigid to survive? Isn’t inflexibility necessary in a hostile environment?”

“I don’t know,” said Hyacinth peevishly. “I just know that Yevgeni trusts me, and I’m not just going to stand by and let him be exiled.”

This fierce declaration brought only silence.

“What precisely do you intend to do?” asked Yomi. “I remind you that you are a member of this troupe, and bound by its rules as well.”

“I forbid you to interfere,” said Ginny.

Diana twisted her hands together. She had seen so much suffering in the last months. So much of it had been distant suffering, the suffering of strangers and it was true that it was easier to ignore it, to displace it, to thrust it aside; it disturbed her to know that she was learning to do that. Perhaps one had to learn to do that to survive, to make existence bearable, to make happiness tenable, in a world so full of pain. But if offered the chance to do one thing…

“I could go,” she said softly. “I could talk to Arina. He must be from her tribe, or in her tribe’s jahar, if she has jurisdiction. What did you say his name was, Hyacinth?”

The hope on his face was painful, the more so because Diana knew very well that her pleas had only the force of sentiment behind them, with no authority whatsoever. Unlike, say, Tess Soerensen, she had brought nothing to her marriage, no power, no ties, no value, and while it was possible that Mother Sakhalin had forgiven her for that, still, no one was likely to do Diana any favors for the sake of her connections.

“His name is Yevgeni Usova. His sister’s name is Valye. She’s one of the archers. He’s so proud of that, that she’s one of the women training to be mounted archers. She’s really assigned to Anatoly Sakhalin’s jahar, but he didn’t take any women with him when he went because they were going so far into khaja territory, and they didn’t want to risk it.” Diana felt sick, suddenly, feeling that she hadn’t clearly understood how dangerous the mission Anatoly had undertaken was, but Hyacinth went blithely on, reminiscing about his boyfriend. “So she was training with Kirill Zvertkov to begin with, so they remained with the Veselov tribe until Sakhalin gets back. But they didn’t want to leave Yevgeni there, with the Veselov tribe, because he used to ride with Veselov. The cousin. Vasil, that’s his name. They say he’s very handsome, the cousin, and charismatic. I think Yevgeni is in love with him, though he never says as much to me. But he rode with him for three years, and longer, really, before that. But they let him stay because of Valye—he’s the only family she has. Now what will she do? They won’t trust her either, or she’ll do something stupid like try to follow him into exile. She’s sweet but not very smart. But she adores him. She worships him. Oh, Diana, do you think you can do
something?”